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Authors: Jean Craighead George

BOOK: Ice Whale
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T
oozak‚ a Yup'ik Eskimo boy on Saint Lawrence
Island, stared at the whaling ship just off the coast. For a long time it sat ominously on the sun-silvered ocean. Then‚ frightened‚ he paddled for shore. He must tell his father‚ a warrior‚ what he had seen. The ship had a red‚ white‚ and blue flag. Where was this ship from? What did the mariners who were on board it want?

Not far from his village he stopped. A great whale swam near him. She suddenly rolled‚ her flipper rising ten feet above the ocean. Through the clear water Toozak saw a baby whale slide tail first from her body. He was light gray and as long as Toozak's kayak of fourteen feet.
The baby
‚ he thought‚
must weigh as much as all twenty dogs in my family's dog team
.

“That's a big calf‚” he said aloud.

Toozak bowed his head out of respect. He had seen the birth of a whale! This was a great privilege. Even his father had not seen a whale born. Only the Great Spirit could have bestowed this honor upon him.

The mother whale rolled over to her son. She nudged him gently‚ guiding him to the surface. The newborn took his first breath. Toozak saw a mark on his chin. It looked like an Eskimo man dancing‚ with one arm in the air and legs bent at the knees. Toozak stared.

That's a special whale
‚ he thought.

Pacific herring swam around them‚ glistening like frost. Krill‚ tiny shrimp-like creatures‚ swirled in clouds before them. Overhead in the sky‚ snow geese migrated north. A seal startled by the whales dove off her ice floe and swam down out of sight. Crabs on the seafloor where the sunlight barely reached climbed over sea anemones' stinging tendrils. Fish clicked.

A whale had been born.

The mother whale sang to the bowhead community. She said‚ “My son has been born.”

Bowhead whales are usually born in May‚ as the Yup'ik say‚ the Moon of Egg Laying. This baby whale was special. He had been born in July‚ the Moon of the Flowering Time of Plants. He had a destiny.

The boy‚ Toozak‚ put his ear to his paddle, and heard a high sound. It sounded like
‚ in the sea. His mother had trilled her baby's name to the water world.

could swim at birth. After his first breath‚ he pumped his flukes‚ gliding to his mother's belly. Instinctively he found the protruding nipple. His mother's strong muscles pumped rich milk into his mouth. He nursed. While he fed‚ he and his mother loitered near Toozak. Toozak watched‚ fascinated. He knew this was something few people had ever witnessed.

surfaced to breathe again‚ saw the boy‚ and rolled on his side to bring his eye to the surface. He looked at Toozak and Toozak looked at him‚ and saw his human-like eyes‚ with pupils‚ irises‚ and eyelids much like his own.

“You are my brother‚” he exclaimed. “I will call you Siku.”

stared long into Toozak's kind eyes.

And something happened between them.

returned to his mother and Toozak marveled at what he had seen. More wonderful than that‚ he had felt a bond with the whale he saw being born.

He was sure
had felt that connection too. His eyes had said so. Toozak paddled to shore.

The mother did not let her youngster idle. It was learning time. She had to teach him the best coastal currents to travel on for their migration from the Bering Sea to the Beaufort Sea and back again. The round trip was 2‚500 miles to their lush feeding grounds and back‚ with many deceptive currents.
must learn quickly.

He learned that the sun was very important. The bright rays that shone into open water were angled. The angle and brightness were his mother's clock and calendar. They became his too. Learning to find his way was important. Just one navigational error and he might drown under the thick ice. He learned so that one day he could migrate from sea to sea without his mother. As an adult, he would one day be able to break ice three feet thick.

By the end of his first few days‚
had not only learned part of the sea route but had gained a hundred and fifty pounds and grown four inches. For the next nine months he would nurse and gain weight rapidly‚ nourished on just his mother's rich milk. When he stopped nursing and had to feed himself‚ it would be years before he grew again.

Such was the early life of a bowhead whale.

The mother and son swam on undisturbed. They saw birds when they breathed‚ and fish‚ seals‚ and krill when they swam. In this kaleidoscope of life they cruised slowly northward toward the top of the world‚ two beautiful and friendly animals.

Suddenly the mother screeched a new note‚“

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